Lonely Dancing
by Rangerhunters
Summary: Steph's lonely, but determined. A different approach from the usual, written by Marilyn.


**LONELY DANCING**

Stephanie raised trembling fingers to peel the wet curls from her neck. The room was warm, thick with sweat and body rhythms. Drawing a deep breath, she ran her hands down the outer sides of her legs, making sure the short excuse for a skirt covered the mysteries of her anatomy.

It had been a long time since she had felt like going out, even longer since she felt like dancing till she dropped. Mary Lou could be convincing when she wanted to be.

She had lost count of how many old friends she had danced with tonight, from the way her heart was pounding it must have been half of the burg. Everyone but the man she wanted to dance with.

Involuntarily, her hips started swaying to the beat of the next song. God, just once she'd like to be in control. Just once.

"You look tired enough to dance with me." Stephanie worked a turn into her dance and came face to face with Carl.

A lovely heartbreaking smile covered her face. "Sure, big guy." Stephanie reached her arms out to grasp his hands, moving him tentatively; his hips shy to find the beat.

"I'm not very good at this," Carl stammered. "But you looked so good, I just had to ask."

"Relax," she coaxed as her hands dropped to cover his outer hips. "Move with my hands."

Carl blushed. "You're even better up close."

Stephanie laughed. "Yeah, that's why I'm dancing alone."

Just saying the word 'alone' caused her to miss a beat. "Sorry." She muttered.

"What?" Carl asked. "Did I step on your toes?"

"No!" She felt Carl's body stiffen. "My screw up."

Moving her damp, sweaty body closer, she forced him to resume the dance. Not with her hands this time, but with the mere motion of her hips.

"Wow." Carl whispered to himself as he watched the musical transformation of Stephanie Plum. The woman before him in no way resembled the sometimes bumbling bounty hunter; instead the smoothly swaying body in front of him was the perfect reflection of every man's dream.

"Christ Steph, you want to give Carl a heart attack?" Mary Lou's voice broke the spell for both Carl and Stephanie.

"What?" Stephanie voice was startled and shrill. "You want to give _me_ one?" She grabbed her chest, her hand searching for fabric. Shit.

Mary Lou rolled her eyes and pulled her best friend off the dance floor. "Lord, Steph, you're about to give every man in here a hard on and unless you plan on fucking every one of them in the back alley, you'd better cool off."

"At least I'd get some." Stephanie thought only she could hear her words.

"Stephanie!!" Mary Lou yelled.

The sweat on Stephanie's body froze. Her eyes turned wild as she scanned the room for her mother and then realized her mistake. "Shit, Mary Lou, when did you turn into my mother?"

"You can be so cruel when you're horny." Mary Lou turned away, walking back to Lenny.

"Mar…," Stephanie's plea for forgiveness swatted away by Mary Lou's back-handed motion.

"Cool off, Steph," Mary Lou's directive was flung over her shoulder as she reached Lennie and moved him toward the dance floor.

"Fine, be that way." Spinning on one four-inch stiletto, she headed for the back door.

Reaching it, she shoved the silver bar and stepped out into the parking lot. Remembering that she couldn't open the door from outside, she quickly tried to catch the edge before it closed.

"Damn it!" She felt the damage to her broken nail. "Perfect."

Gravel crunched under foot as she stomped toward her car. Maybe she'd just go home, she'd had about all the fun she could handle for one night. One heel found its way between the stones and settled deep in the dirt below.

Stephanie was thrown off balance as she walked out of her shoe, the soft skin of her insole meeting the sharp edges of the gravel.

Hobbling around in pain, a torrent of profanity blew from her mouth. Finally, weakened from her outburst, she stood still and took a deep breath.

"Great, on top of everything else, I just destroyed a new pair of shoes." Bending over to retrieve the buried shoe, spidery tingles ran up her leg as a multitude of runners destroyed her thigh highs.

Her shoe was instantly forgotten as a rough hand covered her mouth and a strong arm anchored her arms tight to her waist.

"Problem?"

The faint familiar scent of his cologne announced his return.

His captive embrace relaxed and she turned to face him.

"Nothing I can't handle."

They studied each other in the night's dim light.

The music sounded from within, its tempo slowing, the primal beat of the drum being the most audible.

His kiss screamed of hunger and urgent needs.

So did hers.

He bit.

She sucked.

He moved.

She thrust.

He lifted her.

She held on.

His fingers ripped the lace of her thong.

They kissed… again.

"I need you."

He entered.

She welcomed.

They paused.

Their bodies found the music's rhythm.

He groaned.

She moaned.

He drove deep.

She arched back.

Their tempo increased.

With perfect timing, he swallowed her scream.

Drained, they held tight to each other.

"Finished?" She asked, her voice weak.

"With the job, yes. With you, hardly."

The music started again.


End file.
